


seafoam

by orphan_account



Category: Fire Emblem: If | Fire Emblem: Fates
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-05
Updated: 2016-06-05
Packaged: 2018-07-12 12:40:33
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,183
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7103845
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>you knew you were<br/>falling &&.<br/>you knew<br/>you didn't<br/>want to<br/>catch yourself</p>
            </blockquote>





	seafoam

she is the murky water below your feet - a bodily inhabitant that craves only what is within the puddle. the dirty water that swallows the soles of your shoes and takes you down with it - a fall of a lifetime, nothing like it. for explaining what falling in love is like, how it feels, or even so much as how you know or why...is like explaining the taste of freshwater. you can only think of pure. 

the flow of water makes you crash, and when your cold hands hit the rough terrain you are momentarily breathless before you release and you allow the reality of the ocean like beat to pull you back in, waves crashing upon you as a whole. 

the fall has been an adventure, and what’s next is sure to come as a greater surprise. but your love is like water, and like the muddied water below you she is, but you offer a fountain. love is like water and you wish to build a fountain for the one that breaks the current you always knew. the flow can only be stopped when the wave crashes into something new, changing course, and she was always too curious. 

you want your words to flow freely to her, like a river to the sea - you want them to open a new perspective, the reality hit her like it did you - you want it to pour. 

you can watch your reflection in the ripples of water, allowing the droplets of moisture that hang in the air around you to attach - the words that roll off your tongue only contain as much formality as you may put forth, but for her you don’t wish to overdo it. not only is she in fact informal, but she knows you - she knows you like she would a prided homeland, one you never forget, one you wish to never forget. and you hope one that she wishes to never leave, for that is how you feel towards her. although the words don’t come off your tongue. they are stuck together as if an adhesive was provided. 

you tried to choose the words carefully without error, as if picking a flower for the one whom you admire most in the world, but again, you have plucked too close to the blossom and the flower was dead before you could send it away to them - it was nothing to offer in the end. your words were nothing of worth in the end. 

you had taught yourself the phrase ‘you never know the worth of water until the well is dry’, but you vow to unteach that lesson. you have learned the worth of it and you know how much the phrase can truly mean. you know how much the people - the person - the girl you would speak the phrase about means. she is worth to much to let slip out of your hands, out of your grasp, and past your fingertips like she is the very element in which you need to live, no matter the condition - muddied or murky. 

you smile at your reflection as the outline of the woman you know so well comes into view. 

“are you troubled?” her words bubble from her as if she knew exactly what to say, like this was something she practiced, a play she had the lead in. she knew exactly when to speak and how soft to be when doing so. 

“possibly troubled, but without burden, luckily”, she smiled at you. her frame was one of a color similar to the water. anyone with eyes untrained to seeing her familiar sight might not have even noticed her presence. but you did, as she is your mother and taught you to adore these waters just as her. and you found peace within them, similar to her. 

“that is good; i wish to hear why you are troubled though, if you don’t mind my asking?” her smile was that of the winter snow pressed against a blue canvas - one of painted murals of water and waves, crashing upon a shore to dark outside to see, but the sand to light to devour in full. 

your smile shifts on your lips, a dance that you can only perfect at the most uncertain of times. “well. i cannot seem to come to terms with my feelings, exploring them, i believe i have strong ones for a friend of mine you are well acquainted with” you stumble and fall before the finale before you realize what you must do. 

saying the words aloud sounded better than ever had been imagined in your head, why, you did not expect the explanation to sound so real when you tossed the words from the trench within your throat and release them like a failed attempt at skipping stones on calm lake shores. 

“i must be off, but i wish you good luck with your troubles. in my opinion, you should confront this girl, but in her’s, you can only imagine, and if that is what you are worried about, you will find you should not be”, her words contained comfort despite the lack of emotion and compassion that your own seem to contain. she will always be still waters - but your oceans are prepared to burst, waves ready to crash upon murky shores. 

your smile whole, you turned to her, her eyes reflecting shattered sea glass. “thank you, mother! i have decided already that i want to tell her, hopefully how, but thank you!” your exclamations seem to come as no surprise for her, as you can tell that is what she expected from you. 

upon her leaving, you await the arrival of the other you asked to join you here, or at least nearby, but still within sight of here. you cannot yet see her nor anyone for that matter - the sight of human existence around you diminishing, descending, declining, dwindling down so the numbers decrease, and decreasing even more now that your mother has left. 

the grass beneath you is wet and worn although comforting in the idea of the homeliness behind it. you run your fingers through it, plucking at delicate blades of green but not pulling so they come off. while waiting, you pull out paints and the paint-pad you had brought, although not canvas, naturally, it will suffice. 

you move the brushes in stokes solid, but sweeping slowly across the page. you slowly fill in the outline of what is possible to capture in nature. its wonders are nothing any human would naturally be able to capture on canvas although your strokes, people often speak, are as close as one could come to it. you admire your own work, never letting yourself down, but you loathe the way they speak so highly of you when you only wish to understand how to capture scenery so beautiful.  
you take your time with vibrant blues, filling in many hues. you use whites and grays and yellows and blues, taking in the light of the work but only being able to produce something of nearly the same product. 

as the sun sinks behind the waters as far as the eye could see, the sky darkens and oranges and pinks become shades popularly centered within the art. you smile at the star that now takes cover in the blankets of the still waters only you know so well, grinning as the shining water shrugs the day off, ready to hold up another as even it sleeps with the sky darkening above it. 

the period of resting sounds like something you need, but disappointing in the fact that you must go before she arrived, although you feel as if you requested she come hours ago - before sunset precisely was the given time. yet you were unable to watch where she were to show up as you watched the water glisten and paint your scenic view of the beauty. perhaps she had arrived but you were too occupied in your art to even notice. 

as a sigh escapes the small barrier that is your lips, the two objects parting to release a small breath into the warm summer air. you hum as you gather your paints and wish the ability to stay here to be brought upon you. although as your eyes grow tired and weary of the night, you know you must go back. 

“shigure?” a voice behind you asks, low and tired as if they too feel the exhaustion the day brought upon you. it was a voice that belonged to none other than the woman you had yearned for all day. 

“yes?” you speak as you turn to face her. she is as you remember. a wonder just as nature itself. her tired eyes before your own, looking up at you from her shorter place on the grassy floor. her hair dangling in her face, a discolored stripe among the white of it the only added hue on her head. 

“that was a really nice picture, hey i er, i didn’t want to...disturb you i guess? so i just waited over there, heck you were there so long i coulda taken a nap but...you wanted to see me? tonight?” she asks, her eyebrows raised as if suspicious of your intentions. you smile at her and let a small laugh escape your chest. 

“velouria! thank you, i didn’t, i didn’t notice you, my apologies!” you smile as you ready to continue the sentence, “i was worried you hadn’t shown up but i suppose i expected you to interrupt my work…” you bear a grin as you trail off. your eyes wandering to where you find her own looking. out onto the shore of the nearly set sun, the grass almost black beneath your feet. “perhaps we can speak as we head back?” you offer. 

a nod indicates a yes on her part and you cannot help but allow a smile to dance its way across your lips, “why thank you, velouria” you offer back at her, and she smiles before looking away, toward the main path you need to travel. 

as your steady feet bounce along the ground, her own follow suit, each foot of yours and her own finding their own beat in a song that is created down the road. you watch yours move swiftly, keeping at her pace which is faster than you are used to, but you suppose that this is how she is comfortable - this is what she is used to, although you have never noticed this habit of her’s until now. 

a smile decorates her face, playing on her lips like songs and dances of the new age that only she and you can take meaning to and for a brief second you stop, there is nothing more you want to be apart of than her - her life. as if a painting that hung on your wall she is the only thing you would need every time you moved, everywhere you went - you could never hide and forget her, or throw her away, she is so important to you, she is something you believe that you can never lose. 

and in the moment you need to stop, your feet drag themselves on the ground and pull you toward her as if anchors in the ocean, a boat docking awaiting, but she stops with you, with no explanation. 

“shigure, you alright?” she questions. maybe the conversation ending was a bad sign to her and you should have kept it up. perhaps it would have been more intelligent to actually tell her your feelings than any other option considered. you stop for another moment and look into her eyes. 

her eyes are red, as though red jasper. the color red means purity for health and senses and she is so much more than the simple meaning. she is the stone itself, her purity and nearly sacral feel swallowing you whole. this is the moment you realize you are knocked over by tidal waves that only she creates, the water enveloping you and holding you close to it. 

you take her own hand in yours as you look down, “there is not a song on this earth that could express my feelings for you” you pronounce carefully. her eyes fall on her own hand that is wrapped in yours, and although you fall to the belief that she wants to be released a blush pushes its way onto her cheeks, making them a shade of red lighter than that of her own eyes and you smile. “my apologies, but -” and although you wish to finish she cuts you off before you are bestowed the ability. 

“-shut up. there is no way you can be as dense as to think i don’t feel the same. daddy would be totally ashamed. but hey, i am glad.” with that, nothing else was said, but elated your were pulled into an embrace by the paragon you could not begin to frame yourself as a nonpareil to the vast ocean the woman you love is.


End file.
